How Deep the Scars
by luvscharlie
Summary: One year after the Battle of Hogwarts, Lavender Brown struggles to come to grips with both her physical and emotional scars. Beauty is skin deep; the scars, however, far deeper. Ron/Lavender; Bill-Lavender


_Two bodies fell from the balcony overhead as they reached the ground, and a gray blur that Harry took for an animal sped four-legged across the hall to sink its teeth into one of the fallen._

_"NO!" shrieked Hermione, and with a deafening blast from her wand, Fenrir Greyback was thrown backward from the feebly stirring body of Lavender Brown…._

Deathly Hallows, Chpt. The Elder Wand, Pg. 646 (American HB version).

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_How Deep the Scars by Luvscharlie_

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_One year later:_

Lavender heard the knock at her door, but chose to ignore it. It would only be Ron and she couldn't bear to see him again, so she continued washing up the lone plate and fork from dinner. Why did he insist on making things harder than they had to be? Did he not think it had been hard enough for her to end things with him, the man she had loved since their sixth year at Hogwarts? It was best to ignore the continued knocking at her door, content in knowing that she had reset the wards and he was pants at breaking them, despite all of his Auror training.

For that reason alone, she was surprised to hear cursing coming from her living room as she rounded the corner still drying her hands on a towel.

"That last ward was fuckin' impressive, Lavender."

She sniggered at the sight of Bill Weasley, eyes wide, standing in the middle of the room with his cloak smoking something fierce. "It wasn't all that impressive, apparently. _You_ managed to get through."

"I _am_ a Curse Breaker, you know, the _best_ Gringotts ever employed." His tone was cock-sure and arrogant.

"The most modest too, I see," she said, the corner of her lip curling upward in a sarcastic smirk.

He was unaffected by her sarcasm. The smile he turned on her stole her breath despite the scars that marred his once beautiful face. Greyback's attack had left its mark on him but make no mistake, he was every bit as handsome as he ever had been. He was now appealing in a ruggedly dangerous way, where before he had been what most would consider "pretty." Regardless, Bill Weasley exuded sex appeal.

"Why are you here, Bill?" She followed it up in a bit softer tone with, "As if I didn't know."

"I suspect you do," he said, removing his still smoldering cloak and folding it over the arm of the sofa.

"Don't make yourself too comfortable. You're not staying," she said matter-of-factly.

"I do believe Hogwarts needs to reinstate that charm class. It's obviously lacking in its most recent students."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "I did _not_ invite you here. I most certainly did _not_ invite you in, and you want to criticise _my_ etiquette?"

"I would concede that you have a point, if it wasn't for the fact that you left me little choice. I cannot go home and face my wife unless I can tell her that my little brother is no longer going to be staying with us because his girlfriend is going to let him come back home."

"Ron's staying with you then?"

"Well, you tossed him out on his arse, did you not?"

Her voice dropped and she turned away from him, so that she only showed the "normal" side of her face to him, the side that was unaffected by Greyback's attack on her at the Battle of Hogwarts. "He deserves better than being trapped here with me. Before—well, before there was hope, but that's gone now. It's confirmed. There's nothing that can be done to repair the damage," she said, pointing to her scarred face. "I should have listened to the Healers when they told me a year ago, but I wanted to believe George and Ron when they told me they would create a potion that would work, even when everyone else had failed."

"Lavender, listen to me—"

"No, Bill, you listen to me. I have to live like this. He does not. This is my curse, not his. He did everything he could to make me whole, and he can't."

"He loves you."

"He pities me."

"Why should he? You pity yourself enough for the both of you."

"How dare you." She stamped her foot in outrage.

"I dare. Good to know you haven't lost all of your spunk. There's a little of the old Lavender Brown in there."

"I'm not even sure I remember who _that_ girl is."

"Good then that the rest of us do. Look, I've only gotten to know you over the past year, but I've--my family has come to think of you as one of us. Do you love Ron, Lavender?"

"Of course, I love him. That's the reason I won't trap him here with me. My love for him is the reason I made him go. He can still have a normal life with someone who doesn't look hideous."

"Hideous? Are you always this dramatic?"

"Not dramatic. Honest. There's quite a distinction. He deserves to be happy."

"_He_ should be the one who decides what it is that makes him happy, not you. I thought the same thing of my wife, but see," he said, sitting on the sofa despite the glare she shot him, "she tends to think I enhance her life rather than detract from it."

"This isn't about you, Bill," she said, sitting in a chair opposite him.

"You're right, love, it's about you and my little brother, who happens to be head over heels for you."

There was a time when a comment like that would have put her over the moon. Today, it did not even bring a smile to her face. Things had changed. Even if she wanted to smile, she wouldn't. Smiling made her scars pull her face in a grotesque manner. The tears rolled down her cheeks despite her attempt to keep them hidden. "I envy you, you know?"

"Is it my charm or good looks that have you envious?"

"Both, you prat," she whispered. His comment was intended to make her smile but, sadly, her answer was nonetheless true. "It isn't fair, you know, that my scars cause small children to hide behind their mother's robes, and yours only make you more handsome. Nobody goes running from you in terror."

"Don't they?"

"No, you're still handsome. Everyone thinks so. Fleur was lucky to land you."

He blushed. "And regardless of what you think about yourself, my little brother loves you beyond reason. Are you really willing to give that up?"

"Yes. This wasn't a decision I made on a whim, Bill. I thought long and hard before I let the love of my life walk out of it."

"He never walked out of your life. You tossed him out; you took away his choices. Keep turning your back on love, Lavender, you'll find that there's no one left to turn from. You know where he is, if you change your mind. But, love," Bill said, kneeling before her, "don't wait until it's too late."

A 'crack' and he was gone, leaving her alone with her tears and thoughts. She took a long look in the mirror at the scars that wouldn't heal, and an even longer look deep within herself.

She dried her tears and Apparated to Shell Cottage in an attempt to heal what could be healed and learn to overcome what could not.

Fin


End file.
